It's a Tradition
by Palmer4President
Summary: Jack educates Liz on the finer points of a New Year's Eve tradition.


**I had wanted to get this up in time for New Year's Eve, but you know how life goes. Stuff happened, I wanted a couple extra days to finish this up, and bam, it's January 3rd when I finally post my New Year's Eve fic. I hope you all don't mind that it's a little late to the press. Anyway, thanks for taking the time to read this, and please drop me a little note at the end telling me what you thought of it. Feel free to be critical (I wasn't quite sure that I really got this one as much as I wanted to), or even just a quick line with your thoughts. It means so much to me to get some feedback. Happy New Year to you all, and best wishes for 2009.**

**Disclaimer: As awesome as it would have to be to be Tina Fey right now, sadly, I am not her. 30 Rock and its universe belongs to her and NBC Universal. **

"Lemon, thank God you called," was the greeting Liz got when Jack picked up his phone.

"Wow Jack, and hello to you too," she said. "What would you have done if it hadn't been me calling?"

"But it was you."

"That's not the point. The point is," Liz paused, realizing that there was no point. "You know what? Forget it. Happy New Year, Jack."

Jack glanced down at his watch curiously. "You do realize, of course, that the New Year hasn't actually started yet and that it's still 9:30 on New Year's Eve?"

"Duh, Jack, I know what time it is," Liz said, annoyed. "I just figured that, by midnight, you'd probably be kinda occupied with some hot model at whatever rich-person party you're at right now. So. I just wanted to catch you before that all happened."

"While I appreciate the gesture, I assure you that it was quite unnecessary. I have no date tonight, although I am, in fact, at a party that is mostly made up of people from the same income bracket at me. However, it is one of the worst parties I have been to in a while. I'm not sure how Donald Trump managed to ruin a New Year's Eve party, but he has managed to do so."

"You're at Donald Trump's New Year's Eve party?" Liz asked slightly incredulously. "Wow. So why are you still there if it sucks so much?"

"Because I'd rather be at this mediocre excuse for a good time than stuck in my apartment with Colleen," Jack said smoothly. "And how are you celebrating the New Year, Lemon?"

"Pizza and a _Top Chef_ marathon," Liz told him proudly. "And you might think it sounds depressing, but let me tell you, it doesn't get much better than this."

"I'll take your word on that." Jack looked around the ballroom, only to freeze when he saw who was coming through the door. "Oh my God," he muttered.

"What?"

"Bianca's here."

"Bianca? Your crazy ex-wife, Bianca?" Liz asked incredulously. Although she new that it was irrational, Liz felt her hand go to her chest for protection. "Wait, why do you care that she's there? I thought you were over her."

"I _am_ over her," Jack said emphatically. "But there's no reason that I can't show her how wonderfully I'm doing now that I'm over her."

"Jack, stop talking like that. You're going to do something stupid that you'll regret and then I'm going to have to drag you and your hooker out of a hotel again."

"Don't be ridiculous, Lemon. I'll be fine. I am almost completely sober this time," Jack said in a tone that Liz assumed was supposed to be reassuring. It wasn't. "Although, perhaps she won't even notice me. I bet she doesn't… oh, no, too late. Here she comes."

"Please, just walk away. I'm serious about you doing something stupid."

"I can't walk away now, she's already seen me. It would be rude to-" he cut off his sentence and started a new one. "Oh, Elizabeth, I'm so glad to hear you're feeling better," he said loudly. Liz knew that Bianca was within hearing range.

"Seriously? Do you have to pretend to be talking to me?"

"I know you wish that you could be here with me. I wish you were here too."

"I don't have to tell you that you couldn't pay me to be there right now, do I?"

"Oh, Bianca, hello," Liz heard Jack say to his ex-wife. "Liz, you wouldn't believe who I just ran into."

"You're not going to make me guess, are you?"

"You remember Bianca from Gerhardt's party?"

"I have tried to forget her. Like you should."

"Yes, it's a small world indeed," Jack said in his most convincing fake-cheerful voice. He said to Bianca, "Would you give me a moment?"

"Jack, this is so bad for you. So, so, so bad. And I'm going to end up picking up the pieces because I always do, but you have got to stop doing this to yourself."

"Oh, I would love to join you. Are you sure you're feeling better?"

"Wait, what? You're not seriously going to come over here, are you?"

"No, Donald won't mind. I would much rather spend the evening with you."

"I'm going to guess that you're just making an excuse to get out of there."

"All right, I'll see you soon, darling."

"That's really weird, Jack. Okay, well, great talking to you. Happy New Year."

"You too. Bye." Liz hung up her phone and shook her head. Why was she friends with Jack again? She shrugged the thought off and returned to her TV.

Thirty minutes later, there was a buzz at her door. She got up to check the screen and found Jack staring back at her. Sighing, she shook her head and buzzed him into the building. A couple of minutes later, he was knocking on her door. She opened the door and crossed her arms over her chest.

"What are you doing here, Jack?" she asked.

"I told you I would be coming here," Jack replied, looking at her as if that was obvious.

"But that was supposed to be an excuse to get you away from Bianca. I didn't think you were actually going to come here."

"Well, I couldn't stay at that party because Bianca thought I was leaving. And I can't go home because there is no way I am spending New Year's Eve alone with my mother. So, here I am," Jack finished, sounding like that should explain everything. Liz still surveyed him looking slightly confused. "Lemon, are you going to let me in or aren't you?" Jack asked impatiently. Liz thought for a moment.

"Will you complain about spending New Year's Eve with me eating pizza and watching _Top Chef_? Because that's what you're stuck with if you come in," Liz said warningly.

Jack paused, clearly weighing his options. Finally, he answered, "No, I won't complain." Liz wordlessly stepped aside and welcomed him inside.

By 11:45, the pair had made it though almost two episodes of _Top Chef_, one meat lover's pizza, and several glasses of wine. Jack had removed his tux jacket and his tie, and he and Liz were both sprawled out across Liz's sofa. Through some unspoken agreement, they remained at opposite ends of the couch, not touching at all. When Liz looked at the time, she grabbed the remote and changed it to _Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve._ Jack scoffed, and Liz looked at him, confused.

"ABC, Lemon?" Jack asked in response to her unasked question. Liz rolled her eyes.

"You said you wouldn't complain," Liz reminded him.

"I said that I wouldn't complain about spending New Year's Eve with you eating pizza and watching _Top Chef._ I made no such promise about watching Dick Clark."

"Okay, well you better get over it because I'm not watching Carson Daly. Dick Clark is a tradition. No one's gonna watch NBC anyway."

"I have to disagree with you there," Jack said pointedly. "On Monday, I will show you the ratings and you will find that NBC does, indeed, have viewers on New Year's Eve."

"Whatever," Liz said dismissively as she threw the remote back onto the coffee table. "We're not going to be some of them."

"Fine." They watched the TV in silence for several minutes until Ryan Seacrest introduced their Scope Kiss Cam and showed a couple kissing in Times Square.

"Ugh, what is the deal with this holiday? What is it that makes people assume we want to watch them make out on national television? It's so unnecessary," Liz muttered as she took a sip of her wine.

"Lemon, kissing at midnight on New Year's Eve is a tradition, and one that's much more widely accepted than Dick Clark. It is not 'unnecessary,'" Jack admonished.

"Yes it is. Then what happens at midnight to all of the people who don't have someone to kiss? They feel like giant losers when the reality is that they're just single, and there's nothing wrong with being single."

"Of course there's nothing wrong with being single," Jack agreed. "But you don't have to be in a relationship to be kissed at midnight." Liz remained silent, and Jack studied her curiously as if he was trying to solve the puzzle that was Liz Lemon. "Lemon, have you ever been kissed at midnight?" he asked with an almost teasing tone in his voice. Liz looked at Jack angrily.

"What? Of course I have," she said defensively. "It's just nothing special. It's just like any other kiss."

"Well, that would certainly explain your aversion to the idea."

"Very funny. What about you? You didn't have a date tonight, so you clearly didn't have plans for that."

"On the contrary, Lemon, I did have plans to be kissed at midnight. I usually have women lining up to be kissed by me; I don't have to go somewhere with a date to be kissed."

"Woah, take it easy there, Jack. Otherwise, you'll overwhelm me with your humility and lack of an ego."

"It's not being egotistical if it's the truth."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Liz told him, shrugging. Jack sat quietly as a strange thought entered his mind. Would Liz ever think of kissing him at midnight? _No, of course she wouldn't_, his mind immediately told him. Jack admired Liz on a professional level, and she was possibly his best friend, but he had realized long ago that nothing romantic would ever happen between them. Not that he had never entertained the idea, or that he found it disturbing or 'gross,' as Liz would say; he had simply resigned himself to the fact that Liz found it disturbing and gross for reasons unknown to him. However, Jack found himself with a perfect opportunity to broach the subject. After a short pause, he spoke.

"Would you kiss me at midnight, Lemon?" he asked. Liz nearly choked on her wine.

"What?" she sputtered.

"I'm fairly confident that you heard me," Jack said patronizingly. Liz nodded.

"Yes, I heard you, but you weren't serious, were you?"

"Of course I'm serious," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "In a hypothetical situation, would you kiss me at midnight on New Year's Eve?" he repeated.

"Okay, I'm pretty sure this right now _is_ the hypothetical situation, which is weird. But in a hypothetical situation where I was completely wasted? Maybe. Right now? No way."

"Why not? It's not like it means anything. It's New Year's Eve and it's a tradition; it's not a proposal for marriage."

"I don't kiss my best friends," Liz told him defiantly.

"Your best friends are almost all women or married men, not stunningly handsome, single, successful men-"

"Again with the ego," she muttered, shaking her head disapprovingly.

"-who offer to kiss you at midnight so you don't feel like a – what was it? – 'giant loser.'"

"While I appreciate the thought behind the offer, no," Liz said again. Jack shook his head and changed his approach slightly.

"I didn't think you would," Jack said. "Of course, it would be good for you to do something spontaneous, but your prudish nature is holding you back, yet again." Liz raised an eyebrow at Jack.

"You didn't think I would?" she asked. Jack chuckled and took a sip of his wine.

"I knew you wouldn't," he replied evenly. "I thought I would offer you the chance to prove me wrong and prove to me that I don't know everything you do before you do it, but it looks like I was right. Again." Liz looked away from Jack and back towards the TV, where there were only a couple of minutes left in the year. She glanced between Jack and the TV several times, only to find Jack watching the final countdown with a slightly smug look on his face. Had she really proved Jack right again? She hated it when Jack was right, but to prove him wrong… no, there was no way. On the screen, Dick Clark counted down the last few seconds of the year, and the loud yell of "Happy New Year!" erupted from the crowd in Times Square. Jack held out his glass of wine to Liz as a toast.

"Happy New Year, Lemon," he said, still wearing that slightly smug look that drove her insane. She wordlessly reciprocated his toast, and they each drank from their glasses. Liz then put her glass down on the coffee table. In one motion, she grabbed both sides of Jack's face and pulled his mouth to hers in a quick, hard kiss. She pulled away and smiled at the shocked look on Jack's face.

"Suck it, you're wrong," she said triumphantly. The shock was immediately wiped off of Jack's face, and it returned to the face of the critical mentor.

"Lemon, that's not how you kiss someone at midnight on New Year's Eve," he informed her. "You don't kiss them like you're trying to prove a point."

"Ugh, can I not do anything without you being all mentor-y on me?" Liz asked, frustrated. "Besides, I was trying to prove a point." Jack ignored her and moved closer to her on the couch. He moved one hand to the side of her face and gently touched her cheek. Liz looked like she was about to protest, but Jack quietly interrupted her.

"This is how you're supposed to do it," he muttered before closing the distance between their lips in a slow, tender kiss. Liz's first thought was that she should pull away, but between the feeling of Jack's lips on hers, his hand running through her hair, and the weird, swoop-y feeling in her stomach (which had _nothing_ to do with Jack kissing her, she told herself), Liz found herself unable to protest. And maybe she was enjoying it. Just a little. As she was about to deepen the kiss, however, Jack pulled away.

"_That_ is a proper New Year's Eve kiss, Lemon," he said in what Liz had deemed his boss/mentor voice. Liz opened her eyes (when had she closed them?) and looked at him in a slight daze. As the reality of what just happened hit her, her blank look was filled with one of annoyance.

"You always have to be right, don't you?" she asked with a hint of irritation in her voice.

"I don't have to be right; it just so happens that I always am," Jack told her. Liz rolled her eyes and stood up off of the couch.

"Jack, I think you need to be getting home for the evening," she said, motioning towards the door. He stood up as well and nodded.

"Very well. Mother should be almost asleep by now. That is, of course, assuming she hasn't taken several caffeine pills in order to stay up until I get home in the hopes of catching me with a woman that she can critique," Jack said, staring blankly at the television as he imagined the possibilities that await him back at his penthouse. He shook his head to clear it and chuckled, "But really, the probability of that is slim. Very slim." Liz couldn't tell if he really believed that or was simply saying it in the hopes that it would then become true. Jack moved about the room and gathered his jacket, tie, and cell phone. Once his driver arrived with his car, he turned to Liz.

"Well, Lemon, thank you for a pleasant New Year's Eve," he said seriously.

"You're welcome," Liz replied, feeling weird that they were having a completely normal conversation after what had happened only minutes before. "Thanks for keeping me company." Jack smiled.

"Anytime." They walked to the door, and Liz said goodbye to him. Just as she was about to close the door, however, Jack stopped her. "Lemon," he said, catching the door. "Liz." Her eyes immediately snapped up to his at his use of her first name. "If I were to ask you to dinner, say this Saturday night, would you say yes?"

Liz's eyes widened and she took a deep breath, glancing back down at her feet. "Oh boy," she muttered. "I would have to say…" Jack looked at her expectantly. She glanced back at him and gave into a small, spontaneous voice in the back of her head. Liz smiled lightly and nodded. "Yeah, sure, why not." Jack's slightly lopsided grin spread across his face.

"Good. I'll call you." With that, Jack turned and left Liz alone. She closed her door in slight confusion over what had just happened. She shook her head; this was so not a Liz thing to do. Nevertheless, Liz decided that she might just be okay with it.

**End**


End file.
